i won't say it's fate (but it's fate)
by Scallisaac
Summary: Linda's got a pretty massive crush on the girl who makes her coffee every morning. Luck for her, Iris has just been offered a job at Picture News, too, and she can tell that they're going to be really good…friends. (Iris/Linda)


Notes: I know Linda hasn't actually even been introduced yet but I can't wait to see these two awesome ladies interact and this fandom is really lacking with femslash, so I figured why the hell not. Just a short little one-shot of these two crushing on each other hard-core

xXx

Every morning started with coffee—that was like, rule number one in Linda's book. Over the years, it had become essential for her survival, a necessity to get through any day. Before her big move to Central City after she'd accepted a job at Picture News, she would've just brewed it at home and taken it along to work with her in her favorite little travel mug, the cute red one decorated with little hearts that she'd gotten herself last Valentine's Day to celebrate being single.

And then she'd stopped at Jitters one day, already running behind schedule because she'd realized too late that she was out of milk (and she would never be able to understand how _anyone _could drink coffee without milk) to get her fix instead. Her Keurig had been sitting sadly on her counter, accumulating dust ever since.

She'd been busy fishing through her purse for her wallet, cursing herself for allowing so much clutter to accumulate and making a mental note to clean it out later—a promise she knew she wouldn't realistically be keeping—when her coffee had been placed on the counter and a cheery voice had captured her attention.

"Here you go! One caramel-flavored coffee, extra milk and sugar. Have a nice day!"

The girl had beamed at her, briefly flashing a wide, toothy smile before heading back to her post. Linda had been left in a daze, her eyes following the girl as she busied herself with making the next customer's drink.

Even with her hair messily pulled back and the apron she was wearing over her dress—which, Linda couldn't help but notice as she ogled her from the back, was incredibly cute—stained and dirty, the girl was almost offensively attractive. Didn't she realize Linda was in a hurry? That she had places to be, and didn't have timed to be distracted by that perfect smile, perfect hair, perfect face? And yet here she was, rooted to the spot, pretty sure her mouth was still hanging open.

It wasn't until the cashier had loudly cleared his throat and leveled her with a pitying look that she had pulled out a stack of ones to pay for her coffee, evenly meeting his gaze and raising an eyebrow in response to his quiet amusement, refusing to own up to the fact that she'd very obviously just been staring at his co-worker.

He'd been about to give her back her change, and she'd had her hand extended, fully prepared to take the money, thank him, pick up her coffee and high-tail it out of there, when he'd broken into a mischievous grin.

"Her name is Iris, in case you were wondering. Which I'm sure you were. She tends to have that effect on people," he'd whispered to her, leaning on the counter and dropping the change into her open, waiting palm.

He'd given her a knowing little wink before standing back and following it up with a deceptively innocent _'Enjoy!'_ as he'd watched her struggle to stuff everything back into her wallet. She'd nearly forgotten to take her coffee with her as she'd scrambled out the door.

And so she'd returned the next day, and the next day, and the next day, until her morning runs to Jitters became a semi-regular thing, all just to catch a glimpse of this 'Iris' girl (although it helped that the coffee was actually pretty quality, too), in the vain hope of getting in a few seconds of conversation with her. Seconds in which she might be able to work some of her classic 'Linda Park charm'—an asset she'd primed and perfected since high school and that hadn't failed her since.

Sometimes Iris was working the register, sometimes she was waiting tables, sometimes she was making the drinks, but she was always too busy to stop and chat during the morning rush when Linda would stop by. All she ever managed to get in was a smile and a brief 'hi' or 'how are you', but at least it was something.

Linda was a firm believer in taking chances and following her gut, and she had a feeling that something was bound to go her way eventually. Luck had always been on her side—except in those cases where it hadn't, which usually ended pretty badly and where everything seemed to be working against her…so maybe that wasn't quite true.

It was more like she liked to _think _that luck had always on her side; she was an optimist—she'd rather not dwell on the past or things that had gone wrong. She would much rather remain hopeful that things would work out, that something had to fall in her favor at some point.

Maybe one day she'd stop in and catch Iris on a break, and would actually be able to introduce herself. They'd talk, get to know each other, and lo and behold, sparks would fly. She knew it was wishful thinking, but a girl could dream, and Linda really loved to dream—especially when it broke through the relentless monotony of work, work, work.

So understandably, she was pretty devastated the day she walked into Jitters, feeling cute and confident and ready to slip Iris her number as she paid for her drink, and realized that Iris wasn't actually there. Not at the cash register, not behind the counter, not drifting from table to table, picking up and dropping off plates.

Seeing her smile had been the perfect way to brighten Linda's morning, had always cheered her up when she would wake up groggy and tired, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Jitters had become something she'd come to associate with the warm and giddy feelings of one of those _'oh-shit-I've-got-it-real-bad' _crushes of hers, and now it was like the whole place was suddenly a whole lot more gloomy. And just like that, she was in a bad mood.

She paid for her coffee with a frown on her face, and the cashier—the same one who'd been there the very first time she'd stepped through the door—gave her a sad smile and a shrug, a silent expression of condolences, as if reading her mind. _'New job'_ he mouthed to her, looking sympathetic, and she guessed she must've been just about as obvious about her massive crush as she'd thought.

She walked into Picture News irritated and grumpy, gaze resolutely fixed on the ground, running through a list in her head of all the things she needed to get done and trying really hard to squish her disappointment. She had really thought today was going to be her day.

As she looked up, finally tearing her focus from the floor, she very narrowly avoided tripping and spilling hot coffee all down the front of her blouse.

Because there was Jitters girl, sitting at the desk right across from hers, chewing on a pen and completely absorbed in thought, papers strewn all around her. So _this_ was her new job. The steadily building excitement in Linda's chest was making her feel just about ready to explode. Because this? This. Was. _Amazing._

She fixed her hair, smoothed out her skirt, plastered on the brightest smile she could manage—which really wasn't difficult, at the moment—and put on her game face.

xXx

Iris was in the middle of researching deeper into the shelter for battered women in Keystone when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She knew she wasn't really supposed to be doing what she was doing, knew that they all expected her to be writing stories about The Flash, but she couldn't help it. This was important, and she wanted people to know about it.

Naturally, she fully expected the hand on her shoulder to be that of her boss, ready to scold her for not following instructions, and so she jumped at the sudden contact, scrambling to cover the scattered research she'd collected and act like she hadn't been disobeying orders on her first day.

"Woah, relax! Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

The voice was gentle and sweet, accompanied by an amused little laugh. Iris breathed out a sigh of relief. Definitely not her boss.

She looked up from her mess of papers at the girl standing over her, grinning, and she tried to calm down, she really did, but the sight of this girl only made her more flustered. She straightened up in her seat and tried to hold onto what little was left of her dignity, her cheeks burning in embarrassment, and faced her unexpected visitor just as the girl began to speak again.

"I'm Linda Park. Is today your first day on the job?" Linda introduced herself, silently cheering at this new development. She tried to play it cool, almost added an _'I've never seen you before'_, but that was too much of a lie to believably pass off.

"Iris West," Iris shook Linda's hand, blinking at her in awe, and hoped that she wasn't being too obvious. "And yeah, yeah. Today's my first day here. I used to work at—"

"Jitters," Linda finished the sentence for her, tapping the logo on her coffee cup, "I've seen you there before."

Iris looked Linda up and down, something tugging at her memory, and suddenly clapped her hands together, eyes going wide in excitement.

"Yeah, I know you! Well, I mean, I don't _know_ _you_ know you, but I know you're a regular there. You always look amazing—I mean, your outfits always look amazing. And I, uh, I recognize your face," Iris finished awkwardly, cursing herself for babbling and wondering when on Earth she'd let Barry and Felicity rub off on her. She conceded that it was probably because they were together so often nowadays—it was like double the no-filter.

"Well, what can I say," Linda laughed, eyes sparkling, "the service there is _excellent_. And the employees are top-notch."

Linda winked at her, and Iris felt her face heat up again. She struggled to figure out something clever to respond with, but before she was able to completely embarrass herself, Linda lounged against her desk and pointed to the papers scattered all over the place.

"So, what are you working on, Miss West?"

The second the question left Linda's mouth, it was like Iris's entire countenance changed. Her eyes lit up, and any nervousness or tension she may have had was instantly replaced with enthusiasm. It was clear that she was passionate about all of this, and as she explained her article and how much she wanted to help raise awareness about important stories like these, Linda started to think that her current warm-and-fuzzy feelings had the potential to be a little more than just a crush. This girl really was incredible.

"This all sounds really great. That's awesome of you, wanting to do that," Linda breathed, more than impressed, really meaning it.

Iris beamed at her, one of those ridiculously beautiful smiles that had Linda so smitten in the first place.

"You really think so?" she asked, practically bouncing in her seat. And then out of nowhere, her face fell. "No one else really thought so."

"Yeah, I really do. And if no one else can see it then they're just stupid—this is definitely the kind of story that should be in the news, getting attention. But hey, what would I know? I just write about sports," Linda grinned at her, trying to cheer her up, but Iris's frown only deepened.

"Oh. Does that mean we won't be seeing each other? If we work in different departments?"

Iris failed miserably at keeping the disappointment out of her voice. Linda was definitely the kind of person she wanted to keep around.

"No, not at all. In fact, my desk is right over there," Linda assured her, her grin widening as she pointed to the desk right across from Iris's. "So you're just gonna have to get used to me, I guess."

Linda really needed to stop winking at her, Iris thought to herself—it wasn't good for her health. Her stomach gave a little leap as she smiled back, thinking that she could definitely get used to this.

"I think I'll manage," she quipped, hoping she sounded at least a little flirty. It was something she had always had trouble with—she was great at relationships, really good at being smooth when she knew the person well, but it was the in-between, just-getting-to-know-you-but-I-really-want-to-know-more stages of flirting that she'd never been good at. And that was what this was, right?

She really, really hoped so.

She supposed she must have succeeded, because Linda looked satisfied with her answer, as she pulled out a little scrap of paper from her purse and deftly slipped it into Iris's hand. Iris blinked and looked down at it—it was a phone number, and Linda's name was scribbled on the top, accompanied by a little heart.

She looked back up at Linda, her mouth a pleasant 'o' of surprise. Linda's grin was playful, her eyes full of delight.

"If we're going to be friends, you're going to need my number. Just text me so I'll have yours, too. And then we can hit up Jitters together for coffee before work in the mornings, or grab a bite to eat at the end of the day. Or, you know, just hang out. I'm down for _anything_."

Iris tried to tell herself she was just imagining the emphasis that Linda put on the 'anything', but one glance toward her and she knew that she wasn't. And then she was so thoroughly distracted imagining all the possibilities that 'anything' could bring that she didn't realize when Linda drifted back over to her own desk to sit down and get to work.

She stared at the papers in front of her, trying and failing to clear her head. It wasn't until she took out her phone to add Linda's number and glanced at the little scrap of paper in her hand that she wondered how Linda could have already had it so readily prepared to give to her, as though she'd expected to run into her or something.

She shrugged it off after a few seconds of thoughtful deliberation. After all, as she pictured Linda's cool and confident grin, it wasn't difficult to imagine that she was just _that_ good.

xXx

Notes: I'm really not used to using past tense (I'm much more comfortable with present) but I'm trying to move past it; so sorry if this sounds really disjointed and weird! This is really dumb but I wanted to write something


End file.
